


Truce

by purplelaterade



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-21
Updated: 2013-04-21
Packaged: 2017-12-09 02:57:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/769164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purplelaterade/pseuds/purplelaterade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"It was a test, wasn't it? Back at the house. When you talked to me. Told me flying into the pocket universe would kill you. It wasn't a warning, it was a test." Clara and the TARDIS have a chat following the events of Hide. Shades of Eleven/Clara.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Truce

**Author's Note:**

> I kind of have a lot of feelings about Clara and the TARDIS having a relationship that we actually get to see. So this happened.

"It was a test, wasn't it?"

Clara speaks softly, her voice echoing in the stillness of the control room. The Doctor's gone, having dashed off into one of the side corridors before she could ask where he was going, leaving her alone with the TARDIS. The voice interface from before doesn't reappear, but when she places a hand on the control panel she can feel it – she? – humming a bit. At her? She's not certain. But she knows the ship can hear her, at least.

"Back at the house," she continues, and the humming gets softer, as if it's trying to listen. "When you talked to me. Told me flying into the pocket universe would kill you. It wasn't a warning, it was a test."

Slowly, she walks around the console, running her hands carefully over some of the knobs and buttons and levers the Doctor is always messing with. One of the switches flicks unexpectedly from left to right as her hand passes by, catching her on the wrist. "Oi!" she chides, yanking her hand back. "I'm _trying_ to have a civil conversation here, you moody-" She cuts herself off quickly; probably not the best time to get snippy. Even if the TARDIS _did_ start it.

With a sigh, she sinks down onto one of the steps. "You were going to go anyway. You were going to go after him whether or not I came. Didn't even really need me, did you?" She laughs, remembering the flight to the pocket universe, the way she clung to the console as the TARDIS hurtled along. There hadn't been time to figure out the controls; the TARDIS had taken off on its own the moment it finally let her in. She's got a vague recollection, somewhere in her mind, of pushing this or twisting that, but she very much doubts it had much of an effect on the ship's course and she knows for sure she couldn't do it again were she asked. It had been an instinct thing. Possibly the TARDIS nudging her in the right direction, if it could do that. "You just wanted to see if I was as willing to save him as you were."

She looks up. "Well, I was, okay?" she says. "And I'd do it again if I had to. Maybe you don't much care for me – and the feeling's a bit mutual, honestly – but you have to give me a little credit for that, right?"

There's no response. Clara sighs, feeling a bit silly. Having a one-sided conversation with a space and time machine isn't easy. "Look, we're never going to be best friends, and that's fine. But I'm not going anywhere, so if you could cut me a little slack, maybe quit locking me out, I'd appreciate it." This time there's a small thrumming noise - it sounds almost amused. "It's not funny. You have a habit of doing it at the worst times."

She hops to her feet, folding her arms over her chest. "And you know, we're not so different, you and I." Aside from the obvious difference that one of them is a machine, but she has a sense that might be a touchy subject, so she keeps that to herself. "I mean, we both care about him, right? That's got to be worth a truce, at least." Her eyes go wide suddenly and she points a finger at the TARDIS console. "And don't you ever tell him I said that!" This time, the thrumming noise coming from the console is definitely a chuckle.

"Tell who you said what?"

Clara whirls around as the Doctor comes through what she's sure is a different door than the one he left through and feels her jaw drop. "Tell you that that is the most ridiculous thing I have ever seen atop someone's head – and we did a 'hats of the world' showcase in primary school."

A flicker of confusion crosses the Doctor's face. "But you just told me… ah, well!" He pulls the hat – if that's what it is – from his head and thrusts it proudly toward Clara. It looks about a hundred years old (and smells it, too) and is covered in so many criss-crossing straps she can't tell where any of them begin or end. "This is one of the sacred hats of the Gadrs of Bargadr Three. Ursine race, bit prudish – a bit like old Earth Pilgrims, actually, if the Pilgrims had been giant, hairless bears controlling a vast galatic empire. The number of belts on a hat is supposed to indicate how upstanding and pious you are. This many, I'm practically a saint!" His grin is nearly maniac, but it fades quickly. "Of course, that was a few faces ago…. Anyway, there's a hat for you in the wardrobe. Make sure to grab it before we get there. Also, the prudishness tends to make them a bit touchy about boy/girl things. So we may have to pretend to be just a little bit… married. Not for long, though," he adds quickly, almost tripping over his words in his haste to get them out, "just until we get out of the capital and into the woods. We're going to hike up the Andan Plateau. If I've timed it right, and barring any freak alien incursions, we'll make it to the top right as the double moons are rising. It's a brilliant view, absolutely stunning."

Clara raises an eyebrow. "Then why not just land the TARDIS on the plateau? Why go to all the trouble of a hike?"

"The hike is at least three-quarters of the fun! Besides, Bargadr Three has some of the cleanest, purest air in the universe; bears are very eco-friendly, you know."

"You just want to wear the hat, don't you?"

The Doctor clears his throat and adjusts his bowtie, looking away as he starts to set coordinates. "Well, what's the fun of having all of space and time at your fingertips if you can't wear a good hat once in a while? Now off you pop, go get your hat. Make sure to grab the one with the green buckles, not the blue – green's the traditional buckle color for married women. Bears. What do you call a female bear? A bearette? Not that you're a bear, of course. Or married."

Clara spins on her heel, deciding it's probably best to get out before he keeps rambling. As soon as she steps into the hall, there's a sound from the console room and she hears the Doctor gasp.

"Oi! Clara! The TARDIS says you insulted my bowtie while I was gone!"

"I did not!" she shouts back, rolling her eyes. "So much for a truce, you jealous thing," she mutters under her breath. "Thought the saying was green with envy, not blue."

When she makes it down to the wardrobe, she finds it's suddenly become a room filled with what she thinks is pink honey. She loses her shoes to it and winds up wandering the corridors barefoot for an hour and a half before she makes it to the wardrobe.

(She gets back at the TARDIS by calling the Doctor "husband" no less than five times before they actually make it to Bargadr Three.)


End file.
